Underwater 2008

Jim (bottom), Me (center) and Kudinne (top) doing decompression stop
Jim (bottom), Me (center), and Kudinne (top) doing decompression stop

In two weeks time, I’ll be diving again. I just can’t wait to get back underwater.

I have two trips slated for February to Tioman with the usual group. Then come March, it would be time to hit Perhentian and Sipadan again. My first technical dive trip should be in April, followed by the (postponed) trip to Bunaken, Lembeh and Walea in May. June would probably take me to Sipadan again. June would also see me going to Tioman for another technical dive trip as well as for Tioman Mega Dive, as July would. August, of course would be Perhentian again. September – fasting month: REDANG!! October to Perhentian and one more technical diving, November to Tioman and Sipadan, and December to Pulau Sembilan and Payar.

Time to go deeper than usual.

Gong Xi Fa Cai! Hong Bao Na Lai! Hehehe!

It’s what the kids would say in Mandarin when they want the ang pao (or hong bao in Mandarin). It simply means “Congratulations and Prosperity! Now give me a red envelope!” It’s what the kids always go for. Oh, unmarried adults get it too. So do parents, from their married children. Maybe I should pay Cincin, as well as Countloon and Cindy a visit on Thursday to collect the hong bao.

For those wanting to give hong bao but do not know certain taboos – just make sure you do not put any amount that has the number 4 in it. 4 is a homnym for ‘death’ – so any amount that has the number 4 in it is a no-no. Just don’t ask from me.

Honey will be going back to her parents’ place tomorrow afternoon. Buddhist Babe, I’m not sure. Mocha should be going back to Tanjung Malim (correct me if I am wrong). Icecool and Metalized? Not sure.

For those working at Uptown or frequent the Uptown Foodcourt, please be advised that Ah Keong will not be operating his Chee Cheong Fun stall from today until the 12th February. He will re-open for business on the 13th (Wednesday).

So for those driving back to their respective hometown, have a safe journey to and fro. Don’t drink and drive as you might spill precious alcohol onto your nice shirt. Drink before you drive is okay, or after you drive. I’ll be going for some drinks on my own on the eve of the New Year.

For all my chinese friends, here’s wishing you and family Xin Nian Kuai Le – Gong Xi Fa Cai.

As for me, ending an annus horribilis, I’ll just say out loud: Sui Sui Ping An and hope for things to get a lot better this new year. Maybe I should print the image below and hang it outside my door too.

Sui Sui Ping An (Peace Year After Year)

Kimi Wa Yatto Jiyuu Ni Natta – Perhaps Not

Furikaeranai hito wo miteru Boku ni dekiru koto wa mou nai
Hyakunen kakete mitemo kesenai Tsugunai kirenai kizu wo ataeta you de

Those fingers would rub my shoulders and back whenever I lie on my tummy; the smile would be the first thing that would greet me whenever you wake up. Your smile would always soothe my heart and prepare me to face another day. “Hi, Sayang!” would always be your first words to me, no matter how bad the day may be for us both: but never a day has been bad whenever you were with me.

Kimi ya boku no nakama tachi ni wa Wake wa kikanaide to negau yo
Kitto kimi wa boku no koto
Seiippai Seiippai Kabatteshimau kara

You would always make sure that I have my meals proper, that I would drink enough water throughout the day, that I would sleep enough, that I would never frown nor sigh. You would kiss me spontaneously no matter where we were. Never once would we walk without holding each other, even the slightest touch would generate enough warmth in our heart to last us both a lifetime. And anytime we stood and not move, I would hold you close to me as though I would want you as a part of me: body and soul.

“Sore ja ne” to boku kara kiridasu
“Sore ja ne” to tsubuyaku
Kimi wa machigaezuni aruita Boku kara hanareta

I did not have to do anything much. You would play the role of my complement, my symbiotic partner: you would never ask for anything, as though all that I have given you are more than just pure contentment for your heart. And I have never felt that warmth in me, so much life, so much love, so much joy, so much happiness: whenever and wherever I was with you.

Kimi wa yatto jiyuu ni natta Kimi wa mou kanashimu koto mo nai
Keredo tadoritsuita yakusoku wa Furidashi yori warui basho datta ne

Tonight, many miles away, you lie in a familiar world that is so alien to you; as I lie in mine. Tears roll down your cheeks as they do mine. Your body longs for my arms as my arms long for your body. Our hearts would speak as they always do: only this time of the sadness and utter desolation they both feel. How we could still feel for each other no matter the distance, no matter the time we have been apart; I know your tears still roll at night as they would whenever I drive past certain memory-rousing places. I feel, as do you, total emptiness and the great yearning for each other’s love.

Hitotsume no yoru wo koeretara Futatsume no yoru wo koete miyou
Sabishisa no binetsu ga tsudzuitemo
Omowazuni Omowazuni Mata kurikaesu kara

I remember the last time we woke up together: the Sunday morning’s sun burning bright. I shielded you from the sun and allowed you to continue sleeping for a little while longer; never would I budge for as long as you would feel comfortable in the little shade I could provide. In the end the heat was already unbearable, and at 9.21am, we hugged each other and kissed without saying a single thing.

Eight hours later, we hugged, and traded our final kisses, asked for each other’s forgiveness, and bade farewell for the last time: as lovers. My life was never the same ever again; that part of me just died and fade away.

I still dream of the way you would kiss me, hug me, care for me, tease me, smile at me, call me “Sayang” – the way you love me. The dream that may never come true.

“Sore ja ne” to boku kara kiridasu (“Well then,” I began to speak)
“Sore ja ne” to tsubuyaku (“Well then,” you murmured)
Kimi wa machigaezuni aruita (Without making a mistake you walked away)
Boku kara hanareta (Separated from me)

The Mystery Of A Man’s Heart

Calvin and Hobbes GROSS club

Some people hate me for the fact that I am almost always right – especially when it comes to understanding the human heart.

“A final comfort that is small, but not cold: The heart is the only broken instrument that works” said T.E Kalem. And mine has been broken over and over again to the point that smithereens would seem to huge a piece for each piece of my heart. But it still works. At one point, I was seen to be wallowing in pain, then suddenly people would SMS or e-mail me saying I have moved on and changed to a point that most do not recognise the old me anymore. The question is: Have I actually moved on? Do I not feel any pain?

So let me give you an insight into several categories a man’s heart.

Macho Man

Most men have this facade on them. No matter what, they will maintain an even strain; act cool; no soppy-soppy business. While some suffer inside, most would seem to be able to move on even faster than a Formula One race’s average pitstop times. To them, emotional displays are hogwash and unmanly. They get the chicks faster than a hen can hatch one, denying the fact that these chicks are just rebounds: which explains why they keep changing partners.

Sensitive Man

The sensitive man feels for his partner; other people; and himself. He adapts easily into the likes of the partner, and is always sensitive to her needs. He can be clingy and pressing at times, but she would almost always yearn for his love if he is being lost. To overcome sadness, the sensitive man will try to move on, and may seem to have moved on, putting up a happy facade to hide his pain. He is most vulnerable when he is alone. No matter how long, and how many partners he may have had along the way, he will continue to think about his greatest love that was lost.

Leopard Man

A leopard doesn’t change its spots – much like tigers don’t change their stripes.

Leopards and Tigers – male ones, never care much for their partners. To them, the task of bringing up the children lies in the spouse, as are house chores, making sure his work clothes are ready, his food on the table waiting for him, washing up after meals. He expects his spouse, partner, mate, to understand that he is the dominant figure, and that she should be sufficiently contented with the fact that she is his spouse, partner, mate that he has provided a roof over her head, food to eat, so on and so forth.

When threatened with the loss of his loved ones, he tries to change his stripes or spots, and adapts the culture and emulates the values of one person his spouse, partner, mate has always dreamt of having as her life partner. Like male cats, these are just stances they adapt to make sure the mating partner will always succumb to his needs and desires: be the nice person she has always wanted to see. Once the mate is securely within his grasp, he goes back to his old ways, finding other mates to mate with: as male cats do. This man will show no or very little remorse or regret for the things he’s done that could have cost him his marriage, relationship or whatever have you – typical Alpha-Male behaviour.

Old Dog Man

They are nothing but dogs – old dogs. And as the saying goes, “You can’t teach old dogs new tricks, the saying applies to them aptly.

In a relationship, he would show jealousy, as male dogs would; but as male dogs are, he will show no commitment. he does not venture beyond his learning curve after a while and expects his mate to accept him as he is, and understand him for what he is. He will not reciprocate until and unless he is being threatened with the loss of his spouse, partner, mate; much like the Tiger/Leopard up there. But unlike the leopard/tiger up there, he is most afraid to show commitment, and most afraid of losing the love of his master (parents, first wife etc) than to lose the love of his spouse, partner, mate.

When threatened with the loss, much like a dog that has overstayed its welcome, he will attempt to show that he has changed and is willing to learn new things just so it won’t be chased out of its owner’s house. He will do anything extraordinary to him to win her heart. But as the tiger/leopard up there, he will soon wear out and will become himself back: back to wanting the partner to understand him and not reciprocating. Then he takes this stance of a chauvinist male and expects the partner to understand if he has to lose her, telling her she is strong and not to worry about life – as if he had no role to play in her being broken hearted.

So there you go, the four kinds of hearts men have. There are no middle of the road categories. So pick your choice. – and do so carefully.

Here Comes The Rain Again

Raining in PJ

The rain is a reflection of my heart
that’s in tatters and torn apart;
The howling wind and the patter of the rain
are the sounds of my heart screaming in pain

What A Jam – It’s Federal Territory Day

KL's Storm Sunset

“Vakratunda mahakaya
suryakoti samaphraba
nirvighnam kurmedeva
sarvakaryeshu sarvada”

I was chanting the Ganesha vedic shloka (I call it the Om Vakratund) that Hindus would chant in the morning before they start their daily chores. They’d pray to Lord Ganesha for his blessings for the day.

Maybe I should have done the equivalent of that as I was spending my hour and a half in the jam trying to get home after sending my daughter, Iqa, for her netball match. Everywhere the roads are jammed, then I remembered: it’s Federal Territory Day and roads are closed everywhere.

Kuala Lumpur became the first Federal Territory back in 1974 (since then, two other places have come under the Federal Territory – Labuan and Putrajaya). Prior to 1st February 1974, we would have to sing three songs during the morning assembly: NegaraKu, Duli Yang Maha Mulia (the Selangor state anthem), and the school song. Anyone born in KL before that day, would have the state code ’10’ (for Selangor) as part of his/her national registration identification card (NRIC) number.

A year before that, a packet of nasi lemak at the school canteen would cost only 5 sen; and with 10 sen in your pocket, you’d be feasting like a King. Of course there were boys in my school who would be buying a bottle of Coca Cola (beyond my affordability then) and entered the Coca Cola Yoyo Competition, while I would buy junk snacks just to get my Bruce Lee stencil collection (if not the Ultraman ones). Then came the oil crunch with the formation of the OPEC; and since I never got pocket money from my parents and had to rely on my daily butter with sugar sandwich and syrup in a tupperware (that is almost always empty by the time I get to recess time because most of it would have spilt inside my school bag), and had also to rely on my collection of Singaporean coins because they looked good with the little dragons on them, I was royally screwed: even the kacang putih seller stopped recognising Singaporean money. So I blame my current condition to my maid’s generosity in sprinkling tons of sugar onto the butter spread on my sandwiches (scapegoats are always good – especially when they are already dead).

1974 was a good year somewhat. My favourite times would be the weekends when I would spend time at my friend’s place at Taman Ibukota in Gombak. I’d wear a cardigan when it was morning school session (those days you’re on a 6-monthly dual-shifts: afternoon, then morning). KL would get misty on cold mornings. Then came June 1974 when everything changed. My father’s predecessor, Tan Sri Abdul Rahman Hashim, was gunned down by a communist assassination squad between the Lee Yan Lian building and Bukit Mahkamah (where Menara Maybank is), and my father was promoted as the nation’s top police post on June 8th, 31 days before my 8th birthday: and life turned to hell.

But life back in 1974 was simple. KL was just a simple city: Campbell building was the tallest then, save for the Parliament building. Pertama Complex, Bangunan Ming (on Jalan Bukit Nanas), Menara Zainal Abidin (former BBMB – where Bank Muamalat is now) were still under construction. And we friends, malays, chinese, indians alike would put “school first” than “race” whenever there is a quarrel between inter-school sports rivals. Race and religion were in our pockets somewhere, never to be seen.

How KL has progressed in terms of development, and regressed in terms of race relations, and changed in its character 34 years later.

My thoughts on 1974’s KL was interrupted when a car honked as the light had turned green. My car lurched forward and several minutes later, I arrived home. I gave a sigh of relief, went inside the house, greeted by my daughter Nisaa, asked her a few questions, then came into this room to log on to the Internet.

As I began to type this posting, a text message came in and it read:

“Ayah…kitorang dah habis main netball. Dah boleh ambik sekarang.”

Oh, crap!

“Vakratunda mahakaya suryakoti samaphraba…